


Sterling's Mansion

by nandroidtales



Category: Emmy The Robot (Webcomic)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:47:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28167969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nandroidtales/pseuds/nandroidtales
Kudos: 2





	1. Chapter 1

“Margaret, you can send the girls in now,” chimed a stern voice from behind the little reception desk. The little cluster of offices was just one of many such spaces in the Sterling Robotics’ headquarters, a space tailor made for all the administrative and bureaucratic needs of the ever-growing company, and it was here in the Nandroid Requisitions Office that the company did its hardest to scrub up its little robots for the world, and scrub out the handful that failed to make muster in class. It was such a handful the little receptionist, almost like a humanized version of the robots she saw come and go, now ferried in. The trio followed behind her into the back of the correctional wing of the office. Margaret knocked curtly on the door.  
“Ms. Bradbury? I have the robots to see you,” she said. The door swung open as the broad pant-suited woman welcomed the three little maids in and sat them down opposite her desk.  
“Good morning girls,” she began, twirling a pen in her hand. She spun her chair and gazed beyond the blinds to the grey skies and rainy streets beyond. “I hate to be the one to say I’m disappointed to see you here, as I am any nandroid. You are the shining example of Sterling’s finest in robo- Avery!”  
“What? I didn’t do anything!” The robot seated in the middle of the three was lounging backwards, her chair clacking forward as she yanked her legs off the edge of Bradbury’s desk.  
“Sit properly! And roll those sleeves down! Honestly, I wasn’t surprised when the teaching staff finally turned *you* over but I was,” she paused, a gentle thump and hum now filling the room. “Cassy, please be quiet for just a moment. Cassy? Cassy!” The robot at Avery’s left froze and glanced up, her head no longer bobbing and swinging in rhythm with the stomp of her feet.  
“Oh, yes Ms. Bradbury?”  
“I- Never mind. Avery, fix your hair, and Cassy wait to hum until *after*, okay?” The middle robot flipped her shock of messy red hair before taking the proffered brush and straightening her hair out, only to shake her head violently afterwards; Bradbury was too tired to scold her further.  
“Girls, you’re here for a number of reasons. Sterling’s policy is to take, well, robots ‘like you’ and put them into work more suitable to them. Some of the teaching staff, though concerned, fought tooth and nail to give you girls another chance. I’ve been looking at your files and they’re very concerning,” she said, looking over a trio of manila envelopes with the various minutia and data that were collected and compiled in this very office over the course of a nandroid’s production and maintenance.  
Two of the robots at least had a reason to be off the baseline - during the initial programming loop Avery had gotten stuck in a feedback about basic sports and outdoorsmanship which manifested as an overly rough attitude towards class situations and unfortunately in the injury of a handful of the male techs. Cassy was fed the incorrect tapes for a nandroid’s standard music appreciation class and, contrary to the gentle operas and European classics they were meant to embrace, found herself turning any errant object into a microphone and breaking out into soulful renditions of the latest hits. The third robot, however, was beyond anomalous. For all intents and purposes she was fine upon production: no such issues of over exposure, or human slip-ups in education, nothing. But when she came from the factory flow she was slow, almost absent the innate maternal instinct a maid needed at least a little to take care of children. She was laid in the scrap pile before she went missing and turned up two weeks later in class, wearing a handmade Sterling-blue uniform she’d fashioned from reams of cloth scattered across the warehouse floor.  
“What I’m saying, Amy,” she continued, making sure to include the third, “is that we here at Sterling are very open to the idea of second chances. I’m here to make sure you earn them.”  
“So what do you want us to do, teach,” Avery snorted. Amy fussed with Avery’s sleeves as she rolled them further up and neater.  
“Mr. Sterling is, as you know, a magnanimous and intelligent man,” Bradbury sighed. “He is the light and soul of this company. He is also old. Very old.”  
“You can’t say that Ms. Bradbury,” Amy piped up. “Mr. Sterling wouldn’t call you old!” Bradbury breathed deeply before continuing.  
“Yes, Amy, I apologize. Mr. Sterling is very *eccentric*, and has come into the possession of a new property. For some reason he believes the property to be,” she began, shuffling through papers until she happened upon his handwritten communique. “‘To be infested with skullduggerous spirits and phantasms unimaginable.’ Well, girls, I hope it’s plain and clear what your 'job' is. I have to get these ‘ghosts’ taken care of, and you get to go to a family. Understood?”  
“You can’t be serious, right? Ghosts,” Avery started.  
“Like Casper,” yelped Amy, now bouncing in her seat. “They’re friendly right?”  
“Right,” Cassy continued. “So you’re saying we go in, faff about, and we can stay?” Bradbury removed her glasses and, rubbing her eyes, simply nodded.  
“I don’t know how you’re going to prove that the ghosts are gone, but allegedly there are three, maybe four. If you can make up a story-”  
“Oh, I love ghost stories!”  
“Ye-Yes… thank you, Amy. I really can’t offer you much more than that. Just… do your best. Please.” A few more pleasantries and the girls were escorted quietly out of the office and away to their destination. Ferried out and guided to another wing of the sprawling office building they were introduced to the paranormal consultant who Sterling had brought on in light of his new, haunted mansion.


	2. Chapter 2

They gathered in a small corner of the warehouse, Amy cracking jokes with the laborers who she’d come to know during her time there as the three made their way to a small garage. A lavish little space was set up for the man inside, his dark shades and messy blonde hair hanging over an enthusiastic, young face. Turning out through the glass he spotted the dawdling robots, smiling in surprise as he waved them into his office.  
“Hello, girls! Welcome, welcome,” he started happily, shaking each of their hands. “I’m Dr. William Fontaine Fantastique, an expert in all the arts and sciences phantasmical, paranormal, post-mortal, and non-corporeal!”  
“Wow, a real doctor! A pleasure mister,” Amy chimed in.   
“Sterling chose… you. You, of all people,” Avery added. “Are you even qualified in this, at all? Like, in even the slightest sense?”  
“Sterling asked me if I had a degree in Theoretical Paranormology,” he smiled. “I told him I had a theoretical degree in paranormology.”  
“Oh, lovely,” Cassy said then. “So you’ll be the one sending us into this mansion? How do you plan on having us catch ghosts?”  
“Glad you asked, dear! You see I’ve produced a phenomenal, patent-pending, ghost-catching method incapable of failure,” he beamed. He produced a garish apparatus, shoulder straps slung from either side along a long snaking hose and nozzle. “This back-mounted, forward-facing, suction-driven ghost-capture device is proven through the most phenomenal and real means to be the greatest ghost capture device on the mark-”  
“It’s a vacuum,” Avery laughed. “A vacuum!”   
“My lady this is no vacuum,” he said, incredulous. “I’ll have you know this device is the utmost in paranormal capture machinery, and can release a captured ghost from the immortal immaterial coil unto the world beyond!”  
“That’s lovely, sir,” Cassy started. “But I believe we’re to be off soon, so if we could-”  
“Oh there’s more! You see ghosts often react negatively to familiar items, and your maid outfits are too risky, so these modernist, minimalist uniforms will be perfect for you,” he said, producing a trio of beige jumpsuits.   
“You’re kidding, right,” said Avery.  
“I know! That’s such a poor color, and that material is awful,” Amy added. “You really should focus on ghosts mister.”  
“I’ll… take that into consideration, ma’am,” he said, falling into a discouraged silence. Cassy hummed and drummed in her lap. “Well, we should be on our way, at any rate. This way ladies.” A short change of outfit later the girls were outfitted for their expedition, the man ushering them forward into a fine, antique car - Sterling would spare no expense for whatever suited his fancy. The three robots departed into the thundering skies beyond, rain ricocheting off the metal roof while the girls stirred in the backseat.  
A long ride out into the country later and the girls had arrived, the rain lashing the car’s sides as the storm deepened. The three stepped out in a neat line and were immediately drenched from head to toe, mercifully saved by their water-proof casings. Fantastique had regaled them with Sterling’s own observations in the mansion and produced his own ‘info-zines’ on the previous occupants and their personalities. Photos of the mansion were very much flattering to the dismal state of the building the three nandroids were approaching. The gravel pathway squelched underfoot and sucked on their boots as they wormed between puddles nearer the wet-warped front door. The little triplet of robots clustered together on the front step, sheltering underneath the porch roof as they flipped through floor plans, historical records and more.  
“Time to go, girls,” Cassy said, producing the key Fantastique had given them. “Let’s get this over with okay?”  
“Okay,” Amy cheered, bobbing up and down as the other two watched. “What should I do?” Avery and Cassy looked to each other, the one with the vacuum and the other with the map. Cassy dug in her pockets and handed the ghost profiles, more like brochures, really, to Amy.  
“Amy, you’re in charge of these,” she said slowly. “We need you to teach Avery and I all about ghosts and catching them, okay?”  
“Yes ma’am,” the third robot saluted.  
“Well, no use mucking about here,” Avery said. Cassy nodded and the three proceeded into the mansion.


	3. Chapter 3

The archaic front doors groaned as they pressed inwards, slamming behind them as soon as they were all in. Cassy produced the map and began folding and flipping it to orient herself, puzzling over it as Amy whispered out her papers’ contents, stopping often to sound many of the terms out. With repeated crinkles of the map Cassy grew increasingly frustrated, unable to even place herself at the entrance on the floorplan she’d been given.  
“Well, we’re off to a great start already. This map is bunk,” she sighed. She wadded it into a ball and threw it across the small foyer.  
“Simply phenomenal,” Avery chimed in. “Very cool, thanks Sterling!”   
“Girls,” Amy shouted. “Did you know that the ghosts here can’t just be captured with the, uh, the uhhh, the vacuum?” She failed to remember its stunning brand name as she flipped through one of the thicker manuals. The two looked between themselves and Amy, their utter disinterest growing.  
“Thank you, Amy,” Cassy said. “Like I said, the map doesn’t work right - can *you* help us find our ghosts?” Avery rolled her eyes. Amy was ready to descend into another spew of lore and the intricacies of ghost hunting before a melodious tune began to carry through the air, the gentle play of a grand piano tinkling crystal-like through the air as a trumpet joined in and guided the melody. Cassy and Avery froze in surprise, were they human a cold shock would be running up their spines, and Avery made a mad dash for the door which refused to budge under her assault.  
“That must be the twins,” Amy shouted giddily, racing up the stairs to the second floor.  
“THE WHO,” the other two screamed as Amy disappeared upstairs. They sprinted up after the blonde nandroid who was now skipping down a central hallway, the music growing louder, fuller. Amy sat outside a door as she waved the other two forward, the three piling up to peep into the dark room beyond.  
“The flashlight,” Amy whispered. “Turn it off first, okay?” Cassy complied as the three slipped inside to the pitch black room, the music filling the room as an invisible duet played off of each other in the dark, the trio stumbling over themselves onto a ill-positioned couch.  
“Amy, please, please be the one to tell me this is fake,” Avery said.  
“Not at all, Avery - the Sinclair twins were always playing music for their mother, and were the talk of the town in their day,” Amy returned, pointing to a passage in one of the brochures. “They were an excellent duet act and played across the state.” Avery’s head fell flat into her palms.  
“You’ve gotta be joking dude, this isn’t real.”  
“I assure you ghosts are very real, Avery! Don’t be rude, just listen.” As the three returned to silence the room lightened just slightly as two translucent blue shapes coalesced seated at and standing beside the piano. Amy smiled as the two came into focus in the dark, a dapper gentleman blowing away at the trumpet as his sister’s fingers graced the keys delicately, meting out the notes as the two gently played alongside each other. The sister swished her hair.   
“We’ve company, James,” she said. He continued warbling away at the trumpet, nodding to his sister as the music crescendoed to a boisterous resolution. He lowered his trumpet, panting.  
“Nice to meet you,” he said, narrowing his eyes. “You’re very thin for humans, aren’t you?”  
“We’re robots, sir!”  
“Robots, huh? Didn’t figure I’d be around long enough to see them but,” he started, swiping a hand through his torso repeatedly, “here we both are. Speaking of which, why *are* you all here?” The uncomfortable question hung in the air for a moment as all the robots looked at between themselves, two of them not even able to process what was happening in front of them. Amy opted to shatter the atmosphere as she pointed to Avery’s backpack.  
“We’re here to catch you, mister and missus!” The other two recoiled in shock as the cat was out of the bag, now, and it was up to them to salvage it. Avery put her hands up defensively as Cassy shook her head in disagreement.   
“Not like that, not like that at all! You see our, uh, our employer,” Avery began, “has come into possession of this very, very fine property - a beautiful home you have, really. And he’s a believer in the supernatural, evidently, so we’ve been sent here to, well, collect you guys up?”  
“Well Billie, what should we do with these crude rapscallions,” James smiled.  
“They don’t seem too dangerous, Jim. Maybe it is time to go, even after everything,” his twin returned. She turned to the robots, continuing. “You three, however, need to listen to our favorite piece to play, it’s the least you could do if you’re evicting us. It’s a shame mother isn’t here to provide the vocals, though. It was her favorite.” The two twins shared a somber glance before arresting themselves wordlessly, arms at the ready and trumpet raised. As they began their final duet Cassy began to feel the melody in her mind, an innate memory of the melody and lyrics falling into place. She swelled with anxiety at interrupting them, but stood defiant of herself as she walked over. She walked joined them to form a trio, flanking the wide-eyed twins as she broke into song, her voice sounding through the room as the piece came together. Verse after verse she continued the slow, nostalgic piece, its mournful lows made sweet and tender as Cassy sang, coming to the final verses:  
“I'll be seeing you  
In every lovely summer's day  
In everything that's light and gay  
I'll always think of you that way  
I'll find you in the morning sun  
And when the night is new  
I'll be looking at the moon  
But I'll be seeing you…”

The twins continued their playing for a bit, little tears tickling their cheeks as the song slowed further and they stopped. A weighted silence fell onto the room again.

“I think it might be time to let go of this place, Jimmy,” the sister said. “I just wish Mom could’ve been here to see you play.”  
“Yeah, sis… yeah. It’s time to go,” he said, his breath ragged. He chuckled a bit, collecting himself. “So, uh, how we doing this, ladies?” His voice cracked. Amy signed to Cassy to turn her flashlight on, and she shone it through the twins to their surprise, highlighting a bright blue core bobbing inside them.  
“Well that’s certainly new, eh Billie?”  
“It tickles a bit, doesn’t it?”  
“That it does,” he said, smiling. The twins stood up and embraced slowly in the middle of the little parlor, squeezing each other tightly as Amy nodded to Avery in turn, manual open in her lap. The deafening roar of the vacuum tugged at their ghostly hair and clothing as they swirled inside the machine, the lights flickering on in the room as they disappeared with an unceremonious pop. Avery and Cassy stared, dumbfounded, at each other as the room sat silent. Amy sniffed as she stiffened her lips, rising to join her companions.  
“There’s more ghosts out there. We’re not done yet.” Holding the manual she took charge as they left the room again, searching for the mansion’s next inhabitants.


	4. Chapter 4

The trio made their way back out into the hallway, a handful of the lamps lit up now while the whole of the home was still dark. Cassy swung her flashlight around, trailing behind Amy as she forged ahead and back into the foyer.   
“Where next, Amy,” she asked, handing her the flashlight.  
“Okay,” she started, flipping through another of the handouts. “There’s… two more ghosts, and that’s the family. Anne-Elizabeth Sinclair will probably be outside, and Zachariah Sinclair, the master of the house and father of the three.”  
“And the mother?” Amy paused, unsure if even she wanted to share.   
“Well - not here, Cassy. Let’s focus on Anne-Elizabeth for now.” Cassy nodded curtly.  
“So what’s her gimmick then, Amy?”  
“I’m sorry?” They were back in the foyer, standing before a large double door leading deep into the interior of the home and, by Amy’s calculations, to the courtyard beyond.   
“Well you know, the first two, uh, ghosts were a music thing. So what’s Anne’s deal.”  
“Anne-*Elizabeth*, Avery! We have to be kind to them, okay?” Amy marched forward with a purpose and authority none expected from her, Cassy shrugging as she tagged behind. As the three maidbots moved down the grand hallway more sounds played into the hallway. Not music this time but, amid the din of the continuing rain outside, the powerful and momentous blows of leather on leather, smacking loudly as they paced single file down. Coming to a small wooden door, Amy peaked into the dark again before shutting the door, shaking her head. Trying the opposite door and shining a corner of the flashlight in she waved the other two onwards and inside. The pounding ceased as a punching bag swung vacantly in the air and was exchanged for a barbell rising rhythmically and invisibly, clashing to the ground after each successive rep.   
“Anne-Elizabeth,” Amy whispered.  
“I prefer A-Beth, thank you,” shouted the response. Still invisible, the specter swirled around the robots as the weights fell silent. Amy flipped through a small packet of paper and a handful of news clippings as Cassy held the flashlight for her. The book flew from her hands into the air as it was examined roughly by the spirit. “Gee, I really don’t need to introduce myself, do I?”  
“It would be helpful, uh, A-Beth,” Cassy said. Cassy extinguished the light with a click as the third and youngest Sinclair child showed herself. Towering over the nandroids her broad form was toned to perfection, rippling with power as she crossed her arms.  
“So what’s your business here, shrimps?”  
“We’re here to capture you!”  
“Wow. Good one, Amy,” Avery groaned. The lady before them guffawed loudly, almost doubling over with mirth as she wiped little tears from her eyes in front of the little robots.  
“That is *rich*,” she said. “Quite comedic, good work you three. Now please be on your way, I’ve got better things to do.” She snorted triumphantly as she threw the little booklet straight into Amy’s face with a slap, chuckling as she returned to her weights. Amy scrunched up and wobbled a little as Cassy patted her shoulder. Avery clenched her fists as she stormed forward.  
“Hey asshole! What would it take to get you to go?” Avery stood, vacuum removed and sleeves rolled up again, in front of the woman, pressing a finger into her ethereal, blue chest repeatedly before she was shoved back, Amy and Cass watching nervously.  
“You, pipsqueak? You want to take the regional women’s boxing champion 1938 and running?”  
“That was a generation ago, you blue-skinned decades-dead has-been *harpy*. I think you’re too *old* to be in the ring, anyways!” Anne-Elizabeth’s nostrils flared in anger as she swung at Avery, a right hook just narrowly evaded as Avery ducked beneath her hulking arm, the two jumping and shimmying in circles around the room’s central mat. Avery rolled and weaved around the towering ghost as she chased her, her nimble frame carrying her with great speed as she maneuvered around each successive swing. Finally in just the right position, she sidestepped a furious charge by the woman to kick the punching bag directly into her reddening face with a resounding slap.  
She jumped back up in a flurry of kicks and punches, swinging blindly as she made her way for Avery, who was getting behind the punching bag yet again, ready to swing it forward to win another blow. As she did, however, the boxer disappeared almost immediately before reappearing at her flank, a thunderous blow rocking into the side of Avery’s abdomen as her polymer casing buckled and cracked under the punch. Avery yelped in response as shards of plastic fell away into her jumpsuit, clutching her side as another fist connected with her face, a chip flying away as her synthetic teeth were rocked from the hit. Recovering, she kicked low and struck the ghost in the back of the knee, collapsing her to the floor where Avery finally managed to swing the bag into her again.   
The ghost was knocked backwards and halfway into the next room, phasing through the brick wall as Avery paraded in front of her cheering companions. Her celebration was premature, however, as she was lifted up by the collar in front of the heaving boxer, pupils narrowing with rage as her entire face contorted. She reeled up to punch Avery square across the gymnasium but not before Avery popped her twice in the nose, dropping to the floor with a thud as the boxer clutched her face and groaned. Avery brushed herself off as the woman stayed clutching her nose, pinching it roughly as a stream of blood oozed downward.  
“How the hell am I bleeding,” she said between nasally inhales. “I’m a fucking ghost! This is ridiculous.”   
“Upset you got beat by a robot,” Avery taunted. “I think it’s your time to go, grandma!” Avery continued her jeers as Anne-Elizabeth knelt on the floor, her hand having left her nose for her eyes, rubbing them dry in vain as she sniffled through a nose crooked from a life of boxing. She ran her arms alternating along her eyes as she gave up little sobs, sitting motionless on the floor as she whispered out her mother's name. Amy muttered quietly in the distance, not daring to approach the ghost while Cassy locked eyes with Avery, waving her hand to shoo her forward. Avery rolled her eyes again before approaching the ghost and sticking a hand out to the defeated spirit.  
“Aw jeez, now you’re making me feel bad,” she said. “Come on, act like a champion’s supposed to when they’re beat.” Puffy, red eyes stared back at Avery before a giant hand pulled her forward, Avery leaning back near parallel to the floor as she hefted the specter back up, tumbling backwards as the ghost rose again. Avery righted herself again, pieces of her casing poking her in the delicate machinery beneath as her hand was crushed in the boxer's grip. A furious shaking up and down later and then she turned to the two spectators.  
“Alright, I think it’s time to head out,” she said, smiling in spite of the blood now dripping from her chin. She stared at Amy readying the vacuum and Cassy with her thumb on the flashlight and laughed. “See you on the other side, nerds!” Cassy shone the beam of light through the specter revealing the same blue core as the ghost giggled. Another rush of air inwards and a stiff-armed goodbye later the trio of robots was only one ghost away from completing their mission - the father of the other three, Zachariah.


	5. Chapter 5

“Now the papers here say that the first people to come to this mansion on Mister Sterling’s behalf didn’t encounter Zachariah,” Amy said, marching along reading from the arranged pamphlets and reports as they wandered the home. They’d left the gymnasium behind long ago and were now wandering the maze-like remainder of the mansion, reaching vainly for any scrap of noise or sound that could guide them to their destination. Zachariah, unfortunately for them, had been silent.  
“Amy, do you have any idea what his deal’s gonna be,” asked Avery, a slight whistle ringing whenever she spoke. “Because judging by his kids he’s gonna be either normal or radically violent.”  
“Well, the Sinclair family were very active in local affairs,” Amy said still pacing ahead, checking her papers repeatedly, “and this property was just one of their homes, but it was their favored one.”  
“Well what does that actually mean,” Cassy chimed in.   
“It means… Well, you saw how reluctant they were to go! This was his home, he’s not leaving any easier than his kids!”  
“And his wife?” Amy’s face sunk as she anxiously fiddled with her booklets, aching over what to do. She silently slipped out a pair of newspaper clippings, one aged and wrinkled versus one modern and clipped from a National Geographic. The one extolled the virtues of the Sinclairs before spelling out their tragedy, the abrupt disappearance of the Missus Sinclair as she was due to return from the Pacific for her anniversary and the leaving of the three teenage Sinclair children and their father without a mother and a spouse. The second, though, was a morbid analysis and investigation of every facet of that decades old mystery with the ultimate conclusion, on the recovery of the wreckage of her plane, of her passing before she ever returned home. The Sinclairs had lived and died waiting on their missing mother, every day doting around the door, practicing their music, or boxing across the state in the hopes of sharing with her how much they’d changed since she left.  
Avery and Cassy shrunk having read the pieces, their pair of wistful eyes returning the snippets to an again sniffling Amy. Clearing her throat she turned around on a dime, forging on ahead into the darkened halls of the home, desperately searching for some sign to bring them to their last ghost. As the triplet of robots advanced past the parlor where the twins had been they felt a subtle rise in the heat in the home, old, rusted vents still porting hot air around. The issue now was finding the source of that hot air as the other two nandroids rolled their sleeves up as well, trying to suppress the uncomfortable warming. Cassy stopped her partners, turning her head up to listen at the vents with more care.   
“It’s not them,” she said. “I’d have heard that if that were the case. This is coming from somewhere nearby.”  
“So just follow the hot?”  
“Yes, Amy, follow the hot.” Amy grinned and skipped ahead just as enthusiastic as before as she seamlessly eked out the source of the heat. As her partners chased after her Cassy called out directions, the crackle and snap of wood sounding through the halls and guiding them closer to the heart of the inferno. Amy stopped short of the corner, turning her backwards in fear as she started to retreat. Avery and Cassy sprinted still and the three nearly fell into a heap at the corner of the wide hall, another massive door and the wall it was in sheathed in luminescent blue flame. The heat was immense and unbearable but Amy, against all manner of warning both internal and from the other two, stuck her hand into the fire. In the place of the disappearing heat was a wet, impossible cold, the fire flowing like water around her hands. Cassy and Avery watched in awe as Amy continued, unharmed, into the flames and twisted the knob and swung the door open.  
More flame lashed out into the hall and the scorching heat repelled the other two, burn marks appearing on the cuffs of their suits as Amy walked effortlessly into the room before her, the door shutting behind her. The barely-singed pair stared wide eyed and shocked at the remaining flames and the closed door, shaking their heads and rubbing their eyes.  
“Well now what, Cassy?”  
“We can’t just leave her, I mean for all we know she’s… she’s gone, but...”  
“There’s not anything we can really do now but wait, at least she has the vacuum I suppose. It’s up to her now,” Avery said, throwing her hands up.  
Inside the room Amy stepped forward, slowly pacing into the freezing room. Even without breath bits of fog lifted from her warm interior as she tip-toed in. A master bed sat, rigid and draped in frost, in a corner of the room, the other walls lined by stuck-together books made into bricks by the cold. Tendrils of mist hung thick on the floor as she stepped deeper into the room, ringing her feet as she kicked little hurricanes of cloud as she moved. Passing the wall at her left she entered into the main space of the room, a massive study and living room centered around a roaring fireplace. The blue flame cast deep purple shadows where it didn’t strike true and froze, a pair of armchairs basking in the vacuum of heat. Amy approached the chairs slowly in the dim room, both of the chairs frozen solid and scintillating in the firelight as the ice crystals scattered each ray across the walls and ceiling.  
As she neared the pair of seats she saw the emerging specter of Zachariah, staring still and wistful into the dancing flames. A board croaked as Amy stepped further ahead and the ghost’s head swiveled violently to his left.   
“Judith,” he yelled, the hope in his voice rapidly disappearing as his eyes set on the little blonde robot behind him. “Oh. I figured the kids leaving the mansion meant she’d come back, but I suppose you’ve come to hunt us down. I don’t mean to be a nuisance, but I don’t think it's possible for me to leave.” Amy stepped wordlessly onward before settling herself in the second chair. The fire dashed upward and outward, crystals of ice thickening and advancing in an instant on the mantle.   
“OUT! Get out of that chair,” he howled in agony. “It’s for her only, that’s not your chair.” Still silent Amy sat back up and showed her hands in surrender.  
“Who are you waiting for, Mister Sinclair?”  
“You already know if you’re here to suck us up like those other folks tried, don’t be coy with me.”  
“Do you really think she’s coming back?” Amy was pressing him hard as his face contorted between mourning and anger, ready to lash out.  
“Of course I do, we’ve been waiting here for so long she… she wouldn’t have left us.”  
“Did you get to say goodbye, Mister Sinclair?”  
“Do we ever *really* get to say goodbye?”  
“Your kids did when they decided it was time to go, that I know.”  
“Well now they won’t be seeing Judith once she comes back, the kids really didn’t care for her as much as I did.”  
“Do you know how long it’s been, Mister Sinclair?” He took pause for a moment, scratching his chin as he stared deeper into the fire.  
“I can’t really remember, now that you ask. It’s not been long enough to make me give up, that’s for sure.” Amy ruffled through her papers and held the newer article pinched in her fingers, trying to decide when to hand it to the ghost hovering in the chair. “The kids didn’t really forgive her for just disappearing, and sometimes I can’t decide whether I’m angry or just confused. Wherever she is I just hope she’s okay, happy, taken care of.” Amy took a deep breath before handing the little slip of paper over.  
“She’s already somewhere better Mister Sinclair, and your kids are well on their way to join her. I think it’s your time too,” Amy continued, possessed by a diplomatic spirit she’d never really been aware of. His eyes pored over the little slip of paper over and over, each successive reading leading to him retracting into his seat as the room warmed and rivulets of water began to run into the fireplace where they steamed and spat. He doubled over with sobs, choking them back and coughing as he tried vainly to collect himself. Amy pressed a hand to the back of the cool ghost, hugging him from behind as he sobbed. As he finally quieted down he continued.  
“I can’t meet her looking like this, I-I,” he paused and thought. “I had a suit that was for our anniversary celebration, if you can get that for me from my closet I’ll be ready to go.” Amy set the vacuum down by the fire as the room still warmed, making her way back to the bed’s area and scouting around for a closet where, inside, she found an immaculate suit or, rather, the remains of it. It’s years derelict in the closet had rendered it tattered and worn, holes from generations of moths peking out from beneath the suit jacket. A deep, burning instinct sounded in Amy’s heart as she pulled the suit from the closet and produced her sewing kit which she had on herself wherever she went and tore curtains from the windows for their silk material. She returned to the fireplace and took to her work with intense rapidity and precision patching holes with the mismatched cloth. Each successive patch was a little garish spot in just the right place, making the suit into a faux-checkerboard of its original material and its patching. As she rose from her cross-legged spot by the fire she presented the full suit to the ghost before her who took it in his hands as new tears made little tracks at his cheeks.  
Outside the bedroom the walls of flame had been sputtering out but were finally receded, Avery and Cassy alerting each other awake as they bolted towards the door and burst in. Their attempts to circumnavigate the flames and find another route of ingress had failed and all they could do was sit and wait. But now, rushing in to save Amy, they watched her in a quiet embrace with the last ghost, his blue foggy shape gussied up in an immaculate, if patched and clashing, suit. After the embrace Amy turned and pointed to the other two nandroids, sharing a few unknown words with the man as he smiled and waved faintly. Amy hefted the vacuum back onto her shoulders and waved Cassy over with the flashlight. A tearful thanks and goodbye later and the ghost, and his suit, disappeared into the vacuum and into a world free of worry.  
The trio of nandroids began their long trek back to the front of the mansion, the front door easily and effortlessly opening back up. They all sat together on the porch as they waited for their ride to return, the dismal rain having given way to a clear night sky and a pale, massive Moon in the sky. They sat, huddled together, watching the stars scattered across the sky above, each pearlescent dot twinkling and winking in the just-moist air. Sitting there alone they chatted about their hopes and their possible futures, having earned the second chance Bradbury had dangled above them. A shooting star here and there timed out the hours as they looked out and into the road, waiting for the car that would bring them back home. As it pulled up, the three robots piled, exhausted, into the backseat once again, falling into their dream-filled sleep modes as they were driven one-way to taking care of a family of their own.


End file.
